Short Story...

IT SHOULD’VE felt like an invasion of her privacy. But it didn’t. Not with Andrew. Not after all these years. Lucy remembered that first visit. She’d instantly warmed to him, deciding that first day that she’d always come to his optometry practice. Look at them now, she thought. Both in their early sixties. Still friends. And both single again, through no choice of their own. His wife was killed in a car crash three years ago and it was nearly four years since she’d lost Joseph.

There was so much she and Andrew had shared over the years, both good and bad.

They’d often talked about things that had nothing to do with eyesight or glasses. And he’d tell her about books and movies he especially admired. She treasured the experience of being with someone who seemed to totally understand her.

These long conversations and a shared sense of humour had formed a solid foundation for their friendship.

Today she’d come to have her eyes tested. Since her last visit, she’d had operations to remove cataracts. Now she needed reading glasses. And maybe for watching TV? The screen wasn’t quite in focus anymore. Her distance vision was unbelievably good. Better than 20/20, her ophthalmologist had said. How was that possible?

Maybe she’d ask Andrew? But not now while he was shining a bright light into her right eye.

“Look at my ear,” he said, moving closer, only a metal frame between their faces.

She couldn’t help noticing the small mole on his right ear and remembered seeing it last time.

Did he notice any intimate details about her? He’d never said, of course. It wouldn’t sound proper. Not here, in his office anyway.

And yet of course this was the only place they’d ever met. Except in one of her dreams, following her last appointment. Until then she’d only thought of him as a friend.

SO HOW had she dreamt they were lovers? She knew dreams shouldn’t be interpreted literally but nonetheless it made her realise she had feelings for him. Was this because he was now single and unattached? She wasn’t sure.

Lucy would keep her feelings to herself. She wouldn’t jeopardise a friendship of more than 30 years. Not because of a dream. But she felt herself responding as he leaned towards her, now only inches away.

“He’s done a great job on your eyes,” Andrew said. “This lens is in the perfect position.”

She nodded. Still embarrassed by her thoughts and not wanting to cause an awkward moment. But conscious of his proximity.

Then he shone a light into her other eye and examined it closely, pronouncing it perfect too.

“I feel like sending my whole body away, piece by piece, and having it all come back in perfect condition,” she said. And then instantly regretted her words.

But they’d been said. And Andrew looked surprised. “I’m not sure why,” he began. She didn’t elaborate. Having been an attractive woman in her youth, Lucy found it hard to reconcile herself to the inevitable lines on her face and changes to her skin over the years.

Character was far more important, she knew, but part of her yearned to retain her looks. She didn’t want to say anything that might make Andrew think less of her.

Besides, he was hardly the epitome of masculine good looks, with his receding hairline and heavy physique. He might take offence if she focused on her own looks.

He turned off the bright lights and moved another piece of equipment towards her. A burst of air was blown into each eye. She always blinked at the wrong moment so it had to be repeated.

Then began the familiar process of identifying whether horizontal or vertical lines were darker, whether letters were clearer on the green or red background, and so on.

Until that wonderful moment when everything became as clear as it could be. It was time to leave.

THE waiting room outside was empty. She felt pleased when he offered to help her choose a pair of frames. This hadn’t happened before. “It’s not easy choosing your own,” he said, smiling at her. A soft smile that creased his eyes and lingered. He seemed in no hurry.

“I’d appreciate a second opinion,” she said.

He walked over to a display of frames. “Any of these would be suitable for your prescription,” he said. “Do you prefer plastic or metal frames? And you usually like something colourful, don’t you?” Lucy hesitated. “My favourite frames were a pair I found in Rome on a holiday,” she said. “They were brick red.”

“I remember making those up for you,” he said. “Wasn’t that your first visit?

I tried getting more of those frames.” “Fancy you remembering that.” Again that soft smile. “I remember a lot. We’ve had some interesting conversations over the years.”

Lucy felt awkward, remembering some of those conversations.

She’d confided in him when things weren’t going well in her marriage. Then when her husband had become ill, Andrew had given her the names of medical specialists.

TO HIDE her confusion, Lucy picked up a pair of purple frames. “I had frames like these, with green at the front,” she said. “I loved them. If only I’d bought two pairs.”

“Styles change,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to look old-fashioned in designs that are 10 years old.” “True.” “Do you like these?” He handed her deep-red frames. They looked chic but when she tried them on, they somehow made her look like an angry owl.

She looked at Andrew for confirmation. “Maybe not.” He gently lifted them off her face. The gesture was so personal she found herself holding her breath. He seemed unaware as he continued looking at the different frames on display. But she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.

A few moments later he put dark tortoiseshell frames on her face, lifting her hair gently out of her eyes. His hand rested on her face as he observed the frames and adjusted them.

His gesture was unconscious and familiar. Awakening in her an ache for more. It surprised her by its intensity.

He was standing so close she could feel the warmth of his body, feel his breath on her face as he adjusted the frames.

For one crazy moment she thought about undoing the buttons of his whiteand-blue checked shirt.

She looked at him, trying to sense if he shared her feelings. How could she discover whether or not he had feelings for her?

And then he looked right into her eyes and she could only meet his gaze, wondering what he was about to say. But at that moment his next client arrived.

Lucy’s heart fell. It’d seemed as though her relationship with Andrew was about to rise to a new level. Had it all been wishful thinking on her part? Had she imagined he was standing so close because he wanted to be near her? Or was it simply the easiest way for him to check the frames?

And then she had another thought and it left her upset and feeling ridiculous. What if he helped this woman choose her frames too? Why had she imagined he treated her any differently to his other clients?

Saying he remembered their conversations was hardly a declaration of interest, was it?

She very much doubted Andrew had dreamt of her in the same way.

And yet as she looked at him now she couldn’t help feeling a sense of reluctance on his part too.

“I think these are perfect frames for you,” he said. And then pressed her hand and went over to usher the woman into his office.

LUCY went to the counter to arrange to have the glasses made up in the tortoiseshell frames. Once outside, she felt restless. She couldn’t go straight home feeling like this. It was nearly five o’clock. What would she do?

Andrew had mentioned a film he thought she’d enjoy. She walked to a nearby cinema. The next session was nearly due to begin. She’d have time for coffee. The session wasn’t well attended. She preferred it like this and enjoyed the darkened atmosphere.

As the opening credits appeared on the large screen, she became aware of movement nearby. Somebody was arriving late.

To her surprise, the newcomer came to sit in the empty seat beside her. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. It was Andrew. “I hope you don’t mind my joining you?” he said softly. As their eyes met, she held his gaze. “You’re very welcome to join me,” she said. “And perhaps after the movie, we can have a drink and talk about it?”

She wasn’t sure if she meant the movie or their feelings. He smiled. “I’d like that.” As they turned their attention to the screen, he quietly held her hand in the darkness and gave it a gentle squeeze.

He’d undone the top button of his shirt, she noticed.

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